Code Words
by Moonraykir
Summary: Trapped in the world's longest meeting, Kili passes the time by sending Tauriel saucy love notes. There are, after all, definite advantages to being the only dwarf in the Mountain who reads Elvish.


It truly was a beautiful day for outdoor archery practice, Tauriel mused as she selected another arrow from her quiver. Here beneath the mountain vales, the summer morning was sunny but not yet hot, and there was just enough of a breeze to add interest to the task of marksmanship. She nocked the arrow, gauged the wind, drew, released.

As the arrow struck the mark, someone applauded behind her. She turned to see Volki, a young page of Thorin's court.

"A fine fair shot, my lady," he said.

"Thank you." She gave a light bow, the same salute she would have offered her own archery master on the training ground in Mirkwood.

Volki put a hand in his jacket and withdrew a folded paper. "I have a message from Kíli."

Tauriel took the note, wondering what her husband had forgotten to tell her at breakfast two hours ago. Perhaps he was offering an absentee archery challenge; he had been disappointed to miss their practice today, but he had already agreed to oversee the planning of a craftsmen's council to be hosted in Erebor later this year.

She unfolded the paper to see that the message was in Sindarin: to keep up with his children, Kíli had learned to speak the Elven tongue. More recently, he had devoted himself to writing in it, as well.

_Amrâlimê_,

_Trapped in most boring meeting in all Longbeard history. To keep myself distracted (alternative: drooling stupor or acts of desperation) I have been contemplating: what part of my wife's body do I love the most? I've narrowed it down to ears and breast. A true dilemma. I thought perhaps you could settle the problem for me by telling which you would prefer that I kiss first, should I be fortunate enough to escape from this council with my life. _

_Your devoted_

_Kíli _

Tauriel smiled even as she restrained a blush. Of course Kíli would write such things if he could be sure no-one but her could read it.

"Do you wish me to take a reply?" Volki said.

"Please." Tauriel folded the note and tucked it in her bodice. "Just let me collect my arrows."

* * *

Kíli stifled a sigh and sat up straighter in his chair. Why had he agreed to sit on this committee? Thankfully he would not have to make many real decisions; the craft guilds would handle all the technical details of the upcoming council. But his presence was still required through all the tedious process of planning.

Ah, there was Volki returned. Surreptitiously, Kíli watched the page make his way across the room. When he was beside Kíli, Volki laid a folded paper on the table, then stepped back.

Kíli waited another minute before opening the note. No one would find anything unusual about his receiving a message like this; princely duties would intrude even on meetings. But he couldn't seem too eager lest they suspect that he was more interested in this private correspondence than in the council plans.

_Hadhodeg_,

_Before I can answer your question, I need to know: do you consider kissing to involve teeth or not? Also, the plural of __breast__ is properly spelled __breasts__. Persevere for my sake; I am already imagining Possibilities for your clever mouth, and if you die of boredom, I shall remain Eternally Frustrated._

_Yours,_

_Tauriel_

He betrayed a brief flicker of a smile—of course Tauriel would correct his spelling even in a love note—but on the whole, Kíli felt proud of his restraint. No one watching him would guess he was exchanging saucy banter with his wife.

After a quarter of an hour, Kíli dipped his quill and casually reached for another sheet of paper.

* * *

Kíli's reply found Tauriel at lunch with the children.

"No, Galad, you may not sword fight your sister at table." With a single fluid motion, Tauriel deftly disarmed her son of a butterknife and reached for Volki's offered note. She flicked it open, momentarily oblivious to the squeals of Iúleth, who fidgeted in her lap.

_Thatrûna, _

_About teeth: it depends on which will earn me the most satisfactory response. I'm thinking of undignified squeaks and a pinch you know where. I will make sure only to speak of your beautiful __breasts__ from now on—reflecting their bodily perfection with the grammatical. Say, what part of your husband do you love most?_

_Your_

_Lakhad_

Tauriel chuckled and eased the note out of her daughter's clutching fingers. Kíli could be by turns a serious or a teasing lover, but there was no doubt which mood possessed him today.

"Yes, my sweet, I haven't forgotten you," she murmured to her squirming daughter and placed another morsel in Iúleth's little hand. The child was nearly grown enough to feed herself, but Tauriel still had to watch that she didn't try to fit too much in her mouth at once.

Volki waited patiently while Tauriel finished feeding her daughter; he sat down beside Eydís and listened earnestly to her breathless explanation of the new game she and her brother had invented that morning.

Once Iúleth had finally scampered off to chase her brother, Tauriel slipped away to her writing desk.

* * *

Kíli was leading his guests on a tour of Erebor's vast work halls when Volki pressed another note into his hand. The prince glanced at it and shook his head, as if in disbelief at being troubled yet again—a clever bit of misdirection!—before tucking it into his pocket.

Later, when the guild leaders were discussing the best location for craft demonstrations, Kíli found his chance to read it.

_My handsome dwarf, _

_In that case, I recommend trying your teeth on my ears. Of course, I know that as a most experienced craftsman, you well understand how to suit tools and technique to the desired end._

_As much as I delight in your most excellent buttocks—that is,"arse"—I truly believe that the masterpiece of your dwarven frame must be your wonderfully muscular back. However, as I can admire back _**_and_ **_buttocks from the same vantage point, will you really make me choose? I promise to be equally lavish in my appreciation._

_Your_

_Tauriel_

As no-one seemed to be paying him any attention at the moment, Kíli allowed himself a grin. Sindarin, like Khuzdul, had several verbs that could be translated "to know" in Common. In this case, Tauriel had used the form that indicated not just understanding, but intimate familiarity gained by personal experience.

But did she really think he didn't know the Elvish word for "arse"? He knew enough Sindarin now that there wasn't much she said to him that he couldn't guess by context—and for this word, he certainly did have context.

Because his guests were still debating the ideal forge for a smithwork demonstration, Kíli ducked into his own private workshop, where he kept paper and charcoal pencils.

* * *

"My lady." The seamstress's daughter peeked around the door to the fitting room. "A message for you."

"Thank you, Lífa."

Tauriel put out a hand slowly, cautious of the pins bristling at the neckline of her half-finished gown. Between her elvish and dwarvish seamstresses, she really had more clothes than she could wear, but Kíli had insisted that the royal dressmaker would be offended if she did not order a new gown for the summer. Tauriel guessed that it was, in fact, Kíli who would be disappointed to lose the chance to admire her in something new. She had made sure the gown included a gauzy and intricate under layer, since half the pleasure of a new dress was letting Kíli discover how to get her out of it.

As the dressmaker continued to adjust the shoulder line, Tauriel read Kíli's note.

_My flame, _

_Not a word about the bear's pelt on my chest? I didn't think you could overlook it. But maybe you're thinking of our dwarvish saying that deeds give better praise than words. Did you know that in Khuzdul, the exact phrase is "hands praise better than lips"? Most people forget that the rest of the saying goes "unless you are in bed with a beautiful she-elf, in which case—for the love of the Valar—praise with hands, lips, and anything else at your disposal."_

_At your service,_

_Kíli_

At Kíli's fictitious proverb, Tauriel couldn't help but snort—she could hear his voice in her head, his tone cheeky and provocative—and her involuntary outburst gained her an accidental pin prick.

"Forgive me, Tauriel, but you really mustn't twitch!" the dressmaker, Dana, scolded lightly.

"Blame Kíli," the elf returned, her voice uneven with mirth. "He is full of nonsense today."

Dana clucked her tongue, amused. "And who gives him cause for nonsense, I wonder?"

Tauriel cleared her throat and straightened her back. There was no point in pretending with Dana. The dwarven seamstress had known Tauriel since the elf had come to Erebor—Dana had made Tauriel's wedding dress—and understood exactly what effect Tauriel and Kíli had on one another.

Standing perfectly motionless once more, Tauriel mentally composed her response to Kíli.

* * *

Volki caught up with Kíli just as the prince was about to follow his guests into the dining hall. The page was puffing slightly and his face was flushed.

"It's a long way from the dressmaker's, Highness," Volki said in response to Kíli's inquisitive look.

"Thanks." Kíli plucked the note from Volki's hand.

_My deserving Kíli, _

_You are right; I may have been hasty. The forward side of you does indeed rival the back. Perhaps I had better take a full Survey of your parts before offering a definitive Judgment. There may be Elements that I yet overlook. I promise to offer all praise where it is due. My lips, I assure you, are far more eloquent than my pen._

_Your ardent wife_

Oh yes, he did look forward to letting Tauriel take inventory tonight. She had a wonderfully elvish way of patient, thorough attention when she wished. Her affection would more than restore him after today's dull and seemingly never-ending committee meeting. Should he tell her where to begin or let her choose—

"Highness." Volki's weary voice cut through Kíli's pleasant musings. "Have you any response for me to carry?"

Kíli glanced up at his young page. "No; that will be all for today. You are dismissed."

Volki's resigned look brightened noticeably. "Thank you, Your Highness." He bowed, then turned to leave.

"Oh, and for your indispensable service today, I'll mention something to Ori about having you promoted to under scribe."

Volki looked back, positively beaming now. "Thank you, Prince Kíli. I would like that ever so much."

* * *

Kíli was greeted at the door by his wife and three eager children. As he scooped Iúleth up with one arm and returned Galadion and Eydís's joint embrace with the other, Tauriel leaned in to kiss his upturned face.

"You survived," she said, a sly smile dancing over her lips.

"It was a near thing."

Eydís tugged his hand. "Ada, come see the city Galad and I built with blocks."

"It's even huger than the last one!" her brother added.

Kíli winked at Tauriel before following his children away.

Their new block city was indeed much larger than the last, and Kíli spent a good while inspecting and admiring it before he issued the inevitable decree that yes, it really was bedtime now. After that came the nightly ritual of changed clothes, cuddles and kisses, blankets straightened and pillows fluffed. Tauriel got away first, and Kíli let the children detain him a few more minutes after her; he trusted his patience would be well rewarded.

Kíli found his own bedroom gently lit by Tauriel's favorite beeswax candles. The coverlet was turned down, but his wife was nowhere in sight.

"Taur?" he called softly, but even as he spoke, he felt her slip close behind him, silken hair and silken gown brushing him a heartbeat before her arms slid over his shoulders.

"So everything is decided for the craft council?" she asked.

"Yes, nearly, thank Mahal! They even asked me to offer some pieces for the jewelry exhibition, which I can only assume was a bit of regal flattery." He turned his cheek against her inner elbow and kissed her.

"It's not. You have imagination, talent."

Kíli reached back, somehow finding her bare leg amidst the floating skirts of her nightgown.

"And skilled hands," she murmured, her tone suggestive, as he skimmed his thumb over her knee.

"Hmm…" He leaned against her; she felt supple and strong as a sapling at his back. "Perhaps I should delegate you to represent me at the exhibition. You say such fine things about my work."

"Oh no, I imagine it would prove more interesting to let you attend." She wound a stray wisp of hair behind his ear. "Especially if it leaves you _very_ bored."

Kíli snickered. He certainly was pleased with himself for thinking of the letters as a way to amuse them both today.

"I think my Elvish has gotten rather good," he said.

"So it has, _hadhodeg_." Tauriel smoothed the front of his shirt and then began to unbutton it. Her hands skimmed over his chest, and oh, her long nails were a delight— Suddenly the pads of her fingers pressed against his ribs, sending ticklish spasms all along his torso.

He doubled over involuntarily, spluttering. "Ack, Tauriel, what are you—"

She merely redoubled her tickling efforts, till his knees gave out and he fell to the floor, dragging her with him.

"That's not fair," he said, enfolding her in his arms and holding her tight.

"I never promised to play fair."

"Good." Kíli ducked beneath her chin and kissed her, kisses that were all tongue and teeth and whiskers. She squeaked and tried to wriggle free, but he was too strong for her, and she had to lie still, panting with laughter, till he finished. After a last wet kiss and a soft nip at her earlobe, he released her.

"Rogue," she said. Her eyes were bright and cheeks flushed.

He kissed her lips gently. _"Amrâlimê."_

She reached for his half-undone shirt, and after an inelegant struggle, got it off him.

"You're right," she said, combing the hair on his chest with her fingers as he lay back against the carpet. "This _is_ one of your better features."

"My best?"

"Mmm, well, that depends." Her hands flattened against him, following every contour of muscle and bone, as if she were a sculptor defining his shape in stone or clay.

"On what?"

"You're only half undressed. Who can say what else you might be hiding beneath your trousers?"

Kíli snorted. "You'll have to be the judge of that."

"I think I will," she said and pinched his nipple.

Tauriel leaned down over him, her silk nightgown brushing his skin; Kili caught a glimpse of bare bosom inside her fallen neckline. "_Meleth nin_, I love you," she whispered, burying her fingers in his hair, drawing his head back to press a single long kiss to the pulse point beneath his jaw.

Kili's hands trailed over her back, her shoulders, and up her neck. Her silver earrings tinkled against his hands as he massaged her ears with gentle fingers. She sighed, and her green eyes drifted shut. Maker, but she did look sweet like this.

As she shifted against him, her leg pressed his groin. "Oof, Tauriel," he said. "You might have found something."

"Really?"

"Stars, yes." He laughed, half at his use of an elvish oath, half at his sudden impatience. He wanted to let her take him slowly—he _would_ let her, later—but for now, all the day's long anticipation kindled into sudden flame. He flipped them both over, so she was beneath him, and tugged at the laces on his trousers. In his haste, he only knotted them.

"Damn!"

Tauriel's cool hands nudged his aside.

"I can get it, my love."

She had the laces undone in a trice, and her own skirts fell aside easily as she clasped him with her knees. "Don't hold back, Kíli, please," she begged as he entered her, but with the fireworks in his head, he couldn't have told whether she said the words in Common or Sindarin. Even without words, he would have understood what she wanted from the prick of her nails, the arch of her back, and the pressure of her thighs.

They were both sweat-dewed and shaking by the time they finished. Tauriel collapsed back against the floor, panting, and Kíli leaned over her.

"I do think I…found something else…I like," she said.

"Did you?" He lowered himself for a kiss.

She smiled, that private, teasing smile of satisfaction that was reserved just for him, in moments just like this.

"Mm-hm. But you know, my survey is hardly complete. You haven't shown me your back half yet." She squeezed his buttock through his now thoroughly rumpled trousers.

"I know." He placed another kiss between her brows. "But the night is young, and until the last star goes out, I am entirely at your service."

* * *

Author's note:

_hadhodeg_ \- "my dear little dwarf" Tauriel's special name for Kíli.

_Thatrûna_ ("star lady") is Tauriel's Khuzdul name; Lakhad is Kíli's. These are the names they used at their wedding.

I'm a fountain pen enthusiast, and when I saw Visconti's new Medici II Magnifico pen featuring a solid lapis lazuli barrel and gilded sterling silver accents, I immediately thought, "That's a pen for Kíli!" I tried to imagine what kind of things he would write with it, and naturally, love letters to Tauriel came to mind. But with Kíli, of course they'd be awfully teasing. (Now if only finding sufficient funds to buy a ridiculously fancy pen were as easy as writing Kiliel fluff!)

Kíli and Tauriel have been married about nine years when this story takes place. Galadion is nearly seven, so Kíli has had plenty of time to practice his Sindarin. Chronologically, this story falls after "Shenanigans" and before "Nana's Kiln."


End file.
